


Apples and Elfroot

by whereismywarden (PearOh)



Series: Non-canon DA stories [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Lyrium Addiction, Mages and Templars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 15:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20449637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PearOh/pseuds/whereismywarden
Summary: (Tumblr prompt) Cold and hungry on the streets of Kirkwall, Samson meets a good samaritan.





	Apples and Elfroot

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt for anonymous: “No home, no job, no peace, no rest.” for Surana & Samson.  
This fic ties into the [Second Chances](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1238252) main fic and is the story of how Ana met Samson. There's also a quick reference to [One Templar and a Baby](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16256669).

Samson wraps his arms around himself, shivering. It wouldn’t be his first time sleeping on the streets, but it would certainly be the coldest yet. Maker, what he wouldn’t give for a soft bed, a hot meal and yes, a draught of lyrium. But in truth, he has nothing left to give. He sacrificed everything to the Order long ago, and Meredith took it all from him when she threw him out. He has no home, no job, no peace, no rest… He is doomed to beg for coin on the streets of Lowtown for the rest of his miserable life, dignity be damned. With any luck, the cold might take him tonight and put an end to his suffering. But he isn’t lucky, now is he?

“Are you all right, serah? You’re looking a little sick.”

He turns towards the voice and is met by a pair of bright eyes, filled with concern and hesitation. Those eyes look somewhat familiar… Where has he seen that woman before? Oh right, she works at the Hanged Man. In fact, she’s probably taking her basket full of apples back there to prepare the tavern’s infamous pig oat mash.

“I don’t suppose you got some spare change for a bitter old man,” he groans.

She shakes her head slowly, with genuine sorrow. He can’t blame her. She’s an elf, she probably barely earns enough money to support herself. So instead, she reaches inside the basket, takes out one of the apples and throws it to him after making sure no one is paying any attention to them. Samson catches the fruit mid-air, mumbling a quick thank you.

“You’re a templar, aren’t you?”

He takes a bite out of the apple. “Not anymore, I’m not.”

“I see…” She bites on her lower lip, looking a little uncertain. “I’ve got some elfroot at home. I could brew you some tea after work. It might help with the pain.”

“And what do you know of my pain?”

“I’ve seen templars go through what you’re going through before, back in the—” She cuts herself short, fidgetting nervously. “Back in Ferelden.”

It dawns on him then. “You’re a mage…”

She looks around in panic for a split second, fearing some passerby might have heard him.

“Do you want my help or not?” she asks him with a scowl after the moment has passed.

“Why are you even offering, knowing who I am?”

“I don’t know who you are. I just know that you’re a man in great pain — or soon to be in great pain.” She gives him a pointed look as she repeats, “So do you want my help or not?”

“What I need is lyrium — or money to buy lyrium — but if you think elfroot can help, I won’t refuse it.”

A smile breaks across her face. “Good. I’ll see you again after work, then. Do you have a name I can call you?”

“Samson.”

“Nice to meet you, Samson.” She extends her hand to him and he shakily takes it. “I’m Surana.”

He gulps.  _ Surana. _ Violette’s daughter. Well, that explains why she looks so familiar. The Maker certainly has a sense of humour to have him face the girl he took from her mother some twenty-odd years ago. No, not him,  _ the Chantry…  _ with his help.

He watches her as she disappears through the Hanged Man’s backdoor, thinking of how small she had been as a baby, wondering how she ended up back here after all this time. He’s heard stories — horrible stories — about what happened to Ferelden’s Circle. Was that when she escaped? Or was she never even there in the first place? Maker, he prays she never has to go back to that place. Or worse, the Gallows.

He should have left the Order a long time ago.


End file.
